Hectic Heartstrings
by adwen-fae
Summary: The Commodore Norrington's intended is once again snatched out from under his nose by yet another pirate! Romance, drama, adventure ensue! PG-13 for later chapters--R&R!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the fantabulous movie Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Don't sue me please! I have no money anyhow.. I do however own anything you do not recognize, such as Rhiannon, her family, other various characters as well as the plot. So kindly do not steal them! Ta!  
  
Summary: A proper Welsh lass brought up by her mother as one of the rich socialites of the London Ton is offered a marriage proposal by a certain Commodore. She is shipped off on the next available boat, but doesn't reach her preferred destination. A storm brews, the dreaded Jolly Roger is lurking just below the horizon and loads of drama, adventure and maybe even some romance are waiting for Rhiannon Bathoe on her adventure to the Caribbean.  
  
Hope ye enjoy me little ditty, buckos! If not I'll have t' be haulin' some keel and dishin' out floggings..and trust me, I would rather ye just enjoy it. Teehee..Alrighty-o then--ON with the story!!  
  
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Dear Mrs. Bathoe,  
  
I would like to inform you of my interests in your daughter, Rhiannon. I have been in the process of looking for a wife and have already asked permission of your husband, Captain Brynn Bathoe, for her hand. Please pardon me for my bluntness, but I would like to say that, after seeing the portrait of Miss Rhiannon I was shown by Mr. Bathoe, I am quite smitten with her. She is very lovely and I am sure that any daughter of the Bathoe's must be truly charming. I hope very much that Rhiannon agrees and that you yourself approve.  
  
If Miss Rhiannon accepts my offer, please send a reply confirming the engagement and I shall make preparations for her arrival in Port Royal. I hope that the first of May would be a compatible time for Rhiannon to arrive in port. That date giving you nine months to be packed and sailing in route here. Please tell Miss Rhiannon of my hopes she will accept and give her the token I have sent along in the package that should have arrive with this very letter  
  
.  
Sincerely,  
Commodore Richard Norrington  
  
Marie Bathoe completed reading the letter and handed it to her daughter, Rhiannon, who sat dutifully in a chair in front of her mother with her hands in her lap.  
  
Rhiannon's eyes scanned the letter and she flushed a light rosy-pink before she lowered the letter to her lap and looked up at her mother.  
  
"Should I accept the Commodore's offer, Mama?" She asked.  
  
"Why of course, dear! I couldn't have found a better match for you myself. Just think, Rhia, being the wife of a wealthy and (if the rumors are to be believed) a very handsome Commodore.," she trailed off, imagining it for herself.  
  
"Yes, Mama," was all Rhiannon could think to say. She wasn't exactly keen on the whole idea, she would much rather marry for love like in fairy tales, but she had given up hope on that fantasy years ago. She sighed, knowing well that this day was bound to come, but not at all thrilled when it had.  
  
"Oh I almost forgot, here is the present the Commodore sent you," she handed a small package wrapped in elegant, gilt paper with a satin ribbon, "Well go on, dear, open it!"  
  
Rhiannon tugged gently on of the tails of the neat bow and watched as the loops unraveled. She slowly peeled the wrapping paper off and opened the lid on the small box. Inside on a bed of dark blue velvet, laid a beautiful pendant of golden topaz and rubies set in a very attractive gold setting. There was also a delicate spray of diamond chips dispersed throughout the entire design and it was absolutely breathtaking.  
  
"Oh my.," It was all Rhiannon could say, but that was not the case with her mother, Mrs. Bathoe.  
  
"Oh Rhia..have you ever seen something so gorgeous!? It must have cost a fortune!....Ooh! Everyone will be so jealous!" and with that she cackled with glee and snatched it out of Rhiannon's hands, inspecting the expensive and beautiful trinket inch by inch.  
  
"Erm..Mother, don't we have to be getting to tea..?" Rhiannon attempted to wake her mother from he wild daydreaming, and it seemed to work. Mrs. Bathoe's eyes suddenly unclouded and she blinked and cleared her throat.  
  
"Now, Rhia, we have much to do to get you ready and on your way, dearest. First things first, we go strait to Madame Lisette so she can start fitting you for some new gowns. You will need at least two more walking dresses, maybe something in crepe or muslin, as well as a few new ball gowns in silk and velvet. Something in blue perhaps..," Marie Bathoe's voice just became inane babblings as Rhiannon tuned her out, interjecting a random "yes, Mama" or "of course" just to make it seem as if she were listening intently. "Come now, darling. Go upstairs and get your gloves and your hat-the one with the yellow roses-we're late for our duty call at the McKinley's this afternoon and we are to dine with the Marquis for supper."  
  
Taking a deep breath and kissing her mother's proffered cheek as she left, Rhiannon made her way up the large spiraling staircase and into her room. She grabbed her lace gloves and fashionable hat off of her dresser before going downstairs and meeting her mother at the door. Before making their way out the door and down the steps, Mrs. Bathoe pinned the glittering broach to Rhiannon's sunny-yellow bodice and nodded in approval. Rhiannon followed her mother as she swept the rest of the way down the steps and was handed into the carriage by Henri, the butler.  
  
"Thank you, Henri," whispered Rhiannon as she was helped up the carriage step. He winked at her as he closed the carriage door and she sat back as they lurched into motion, the sound of the horses shodden hooves ringing on the cobbled drive.  
  
Rhiannon watched through the small window as the brick houses, quaint shops and parks full of finely dressed people walking in the sunshine and thought to herself, "If only mother knew how much all this irks me to no end. I hate making trivial conversation with petty people over tea and crumpets and I loathe dancing. I can never manage to not step on my partners' feet and then get scolded for it. Maybe the Caribbean will be different; Papa does tell the most exciting stories in his letters! Ooh!....And what if I meet happen to meet some pirates!?  
  
Rhiannon did not know how much her last statement rang with irony.  
  
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A/N: Well that was it. Just a little taste of what's to come. Hope you all liked it and please leave a review if you did or if you have any constructive criticism.but please-PLEASE *drops to knees and grovels* don't flame me.This is my first fan fic and I don't think my delicate psyche could take it. Well ta-ra for now me lovelies! Remember-reviews please!! 


	2. Scuttle it

Disclaimer: I'm not a REAL pirate! I do not own and am not stealing "Pirates of the Caribbean". Don't make me dance the hempen jig!  
  
A/N: Well here it is, the second chapter to my little story. I think it's a tad longer than the first chapter, so go have a ball!  
  
BTW-I would like to give a big, BIG thank you to Empress SLOR who is my very first reviewer ever! I will start (or at least try) writing replies to all of my reviews after each chapter. There's one waiting for you Empress SLOR!!  
  
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It was approximately eight months and three weeks since the day Rhiannon had received her letter from Commodore Norrington. She had sailed for months over the Atlantic Ocean and had overcome the worst of her bouts of sea-sickness weeks ago, managing to acquire some sea legs on the way. Once in the Caribbean, Rhiannon's ship had made its way to Nassau in the Bahamas, where she would get off of the passenger ship and meet up with her father. Once on her father's ship, she would have about five more days of sailing and she would then arrive in Port Royal, where she would be confronting her future husband for the first time.  
  
"How 'mail-order-bride' this whole affair is." mumbled Rhiannon with a hushed voice dripping with sarcasm. She sat with her legs curled under her on a large coil of rope on the quarterdeck of the Welsh Green Dragon. She had a moderately interesting book about the earlier history of the Caribbean Islands lying forgotten in her lap as she mused. Rhiannon figured that if she were going to live here, she might as well know a little about its past.  
  
"What was that you said Rhia-darling?" Her father, Brynn Bathoe, stood at the helm, steering the great merchant ship, the Welsh Green Dragon. His face was turned towards the sky and his brow was furrowed in concern. The clouds had begun to darken ominously and the air seemed to crackle.  
Rhiannon's hair had begun to lift about her head with static electricity coursing down the strands of it and suddenly, a gust of wind picked up and blew the pages of her book.  
  
"Drat! Blast that retched wind! I've lost my place," Rhiannon flipped through the pages looking for the paragraph about the exports that made Haiti as prosperous as it was. Just as she found it, one of the crewmen came up and grabbed the coil of rope out from under her and ran off with it in a hurry. She was toppled over and got tangled in her voluminous skirts as she attempted to sit herself back up. "Ooof," she brushed some of the red curls back from her face and finally managed to regain her sitting position.  
  
"Rhia, dear, I think it would be best if you went below now. There is a storm brewing and I would feel better if I knew you were safely tucked away below deck with your book, instead of up here in that storm," her father gave her an apologetic smile before glancing nervously in the direction of the gathering thunder clouds and darkening sky, motioning for her to come and give him a hug and kiss on his proffered cheek.. She stood up and was embraced in his strong arms, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on his rough cheek, the hairs of his mustache tickling her nose. Then she turned and went down to the main deck. Before turning and making for the door that led down to the part of the ship containing the captain's quarters, guest quarters, store rooms, and the kitchen, Rhiannon looked up at the sky and saw that indeed, a storm seemed to be coming their way-fast. The sight instilled a little bubble of fright in the pit of her stomach, but she shook it off. Her father and the crew would have no trouble manning the ship through the storm; Rhiannon was confident they must have done it countless times. Her father just didn't want her in the way of the crew and so asked that she go below and entertain herself there.  
  
It's not as if I would be much help up here anyhow..Rhiannon thought to herself, I would probably find myself overboard, swimming with the fishes..  
  
The wind now tore at her hair and skirt, as if giant hands were grabbing at it in attempts to rip it off. The fierceness of the gale was making it difficult for her to open the door, but she was thankfully aided by the First Mate Jenkins as he made his way out.  
  
"Best be getting' b'low, Miss Rhiannon, the one looks like 'twill be fierce," his deep voice rumbled in her ear. Rhiannon nodded and then waved before making her way inside and slamming the door shut behind her. Inside all was calm, except for the exaggerated rocking of the boat, causing Rhiannon to stumble her way to her cabin. Once there she took out her book again.  
  
...The major crops of most Caribbean islands are sugar cane, tropical fruits, and rum (particularly in the Dominican Republic)...Rhiannon's mind was wandering from the dry text sitting in her lap. Giving up on her aspiration to read, she stood up and went to the window. On the other side of the bubbly glass that was now being pelted with rain, she could see steel-blue waves rising and falling higher than she had ever seen and the sky was black with laden clouds. The falling rain drops were blown about in different directions, making it hard to see much more.  
  
The room was now getting dim, so she lit a candle and set the candelabra on the small table beside her cot. She sat twiddling her thumbs for a few moments before deciding to try mending the pair of stockings she had snagged on some metal peg up on deck. She had no idea what the metal peg was for, but she did know that it had ripped her stocking and she must do what should could to fix it. She hated darning stockings or mending anything, she would much rather just go without them if she had a choice, but there was no one here to badger her into it, so she had to badger herself if she wanted to get the job done.  
  
It certainly would not do to be introduced to Mr. Norrington in a pair of stockings full of runs and rips, that's for sure. I'm positive that would flip a couple of wigs as well as provide mother with the heart attack she is always saying I am going to give her. She giggled at the mental image of all the curly wigs flipping and doing somersaults over the heads of her reception party and women fainting and gasping as she stepped off the gangplank, lifting her skirts so as not to trip, and revealing a scandalously torn pair of stockings. She mimicked how her mother would act in such a situation, swooning with a hand to her forehead, "Mothers, hide your children! The easily squeamish hide your eyes! Rhiannon is coming..and her stocking are torn!!" Rhiannon snorted, wondering how it was she found it so easy to amuse herself.  
  
Settling herself in the one chair in the small cabin, she set the damaged stocking on her lap and took out a needle and some thread from her small reticule. She was almost done mending the delicate silk stocking, when the ship rocked mightily and her chair overturned, spilling her out as it went. As she landed, her finger was pierced with the small needle and she gave a small shriek and began to suck on the injured digit.  
  
"Second time today my seat has decided to throw me out of it," grumbled Rhiannon to herself as she tried to set the chair back upright with one hand while the other (the one with the pricked finger) was still being sucked on. Just as she had set it up right once again, she heard what sounded like many people's boots landing on deck at once and a very loud bellow of what sounded to be "Give no quarter!"  
  
What can be going on up there to be making such a racket, she mused to herself, Give no quarter, what is that supposed to mean? I must have heard wrong or something.Deciding it might be a good idea to peek out her door and see that everything was alright, or as alright as it could be in a storm, Rhiannon stuffed her mending supplies into one of her hat boxes. Maybe the cook would like some help in the kitchen, it must be quite difficult to prepare a decent meal while the ship tossed about so.  
  
Glad to find an excuse to stop her sewing, she went to the door. She opened it and stuck her head out, then swiftly brought it back in and closed the door with a slam. She winced at the loud sound that seemed to echo for far too long, and then locked the door before sliding down to the floor and looking under the crack at the bottom, watching for feet.  
  
The reason for all this peculiar behavior was that Rhiannon had thought she had seen two men disappearing around the corner in the hallway. Sure it could have been two members of the crew, but she hadn't been able to recognize them and their dress was funny, all raggedy and torn beyond repair. This struck her as odd, seeing as how most of the crew dressed in the normal attire for a sailor: simple shirts with wide collars and three- quarter length sleeves, knee-length pants and stripped socks, some with bandanas tied about their necks. It couldn't be her father, for he wore what most liked to call longs clothes; knee-length pants and white stockings, a crisp white shirt with belled sleeves and lace cuffs, a waist coat and a long coat with tails. So who could these two be? These men in dirty garb that was years out of style with scarves and weapons hanging all over them and a foreboding air in their wakes.  
  
A though struck Rhiannon: maybe they were stowaways! That would explain the state of their clothes as well as their lurking about the ship as they were. Deciding she should do what she could to stop them, she opened the door quietly and made her way after them on silent feet. She had to hike up her skirts above the floor so that they did not rustle about when she moved and when she made it to the turn in the hallway; she stopped and poked her head cautiously around the corner. There was no one there, she had wasted too much time hiding behind the door and had lost them. Her shoulders sagged in disappointment and her brow furrowed, pondering where they could have gone.  
  
Letting her guard down she began to think of all the possible places they could be. They can't have gone up on deck because they surely must have known that someone would see them and then they would be in trouble, so they must have gone into one of the rooms. There is the kitchen and Papa's room...Suddenly she was grabbed from behind and her arms were wrenched behind her back. A large, rough and calloused hand was slapped over her mouth before she could scream out.  
  
Oh no, I'm such a dullard! I let my mind get away with me and forgot to look out for the stowaways and now they've got me!  
  
A hempen rope was wrapped around her wrists and some sort of cloth covered her eyes and was tied tightly behind her head. Some of the hair got caught in the knot and the sting as they were ripped out made her eyes water. She struggled against the restraints, but to no avail, her weak attempts proved nothing for the strong arms that held her and the rope that bound her. She started to scream and yell against his hand, her usually pale face turning red with the effort. He took his hand away and she bit it.  
  
He made some inarticulate noise of pain and then her head was jerked back by her hair, exposing her white neck. Something icy-cold and sharp was brought to the exposed flesh of her neck, pricking her soft skin.  
  
"Shiver me timbers, this one's got teeth Monty," he must have been addressing the other of the two she had seen, "Now missy, I wouldn' be doin' that again if I was ye," and with that she was steered to the stairs. One of them must have climbed up before her and she was handed up to him like a sack of potatoes. He yanked her to the deck and deposited her at his feet, waiting for his mate to make his way up. She was jerked to her feet and the knife replaced. It was raining and she was soon soaked through and shivering.  
  
Rhiannon was guided farther out on deck and then stopped abruptly when her captor halted her progress by grabbing her tied hands. This twisted her arms even more and she yelped at the sudden pain in her shoulders. The two men that had caught her chuckled brusquely at this.  
  
There was noise all about her and she couldn't sort out any of it, her brain addled with all that had happened so far. She heard loud, heavy footsteps, yelling, clashing metal like that of swords being brought together in battle, gun shots, canon booms and above all the pounding of the waves on the hulls of the ship and the rain pelting the deck wood and the canvas of the sails.  
  
What is going on! It sounds like we're being attacked! Oh no, where is Papa!? Rhiannon could hear her heart beat frantically in her temples and her ears rang.  
  
"Stay with 'er Anders, I'll go get the Cap'n," and then the one she thought to be Monty walked off.  
  
The Captain? They can't mean Papa. He certainly won't be happy when he sees what they have done to me. What exactly is Papa doing associating with blokes like these? What is going on!?  
  
A few minutes later she heard footsteps approaching and then the blindfold was torn from her head. She grimaced as the hairs caught in the blindfold's knot were pulled and broke. She kept her eyes closed; afraid of what she would see when she opened them.  
  
"Open yer eyes, love," said a new voice. She slowly and tentatively opened first one eye, then the other. Rhiannon's dark blue eyes met dark, kohl lined orbs in a tanned and grimy face with a mustache and a goatee that was braided into two tails. The face was surrounded by a mass of dark hair braided, beaded, and be dangled. Dreadlocks were held back by a worn, red bandana under a yet, even more worn leather hat. She was startled, expecting to see her father. This man was definitely not her father, and she was scared to find out who it was.  
  
"D'ya know who I am, lass?" He asked this of her gently and all Rhiannon could do was blink with a blank expression on her face. "I'm the Captain Jack Sparrow, at yer service, m'lady," he bowed mockingly to her- proof that he was not intending to be gentlemanly when he referred to her so. He was a pirate, and not just that, he was the most dreaded pirate in the Spanish Main. Even a sheltered girl who had grown up in England knew or had at least heard some of the stories told of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, especially this past year. There had been some interesting gossip floating around London that Season about some fiasco between the Black Pearl and its cursed crew of hellish marauders and the British Navy of Port Royal. The governer's daughter had gotten herself mixed up in the middle of it all and Captain Jack Sparrow had been the ringleader. Her eyes widened with fear, realizing now that she was in even more trouble than she has previously thought, but said nothing.  
  
Jack Sparrow was not a thick dullard as some might think (and he let them think that mind you), but rather quite clever and knew that she recognized the name at least-he saw it in the way her beautiful eyes had widened and a shiver had coursed through her body-but it slightly angered him that she would not at least acknowledge him, nor offer her own name in return. He looked at her more closely, his eyes looking straight into her own and narrowing slightly, as if contemplating the right course to take while looking at an old and faded map that was hard to decipher.  
  
When his face had been brought closer to hers, Rhiannon held her breath, and when his eyes had looked deep into her own she became very unnerved beneath his intense gaze. She squirmed in discomfort, wishing she were far away from him, as well as his motley crew-perhaps back in her cabin, unawares of what all had been going on up here.  
  
Oh why did I have to leave the cabin!? Why couldn't I have been the sensible one and stayed where I was told?  
  
She stopped her self-induced chastising when he spoke to her.  
  
"Now love, wouldn't ye like t' know where yer father might be?" he casually tugged on the braids at his chin while he waited for her response, maybe a 'yes sir' or pleading, or something more than the tiny, almost nonexistent nod that he did receive. This grated on his nerves further and he motioned brusquely. A slumped and bound form was thrown to the deck in front of Rhiannon's feet.  
  
A sob escaped her, to see her father brought to such disgrace. She went to kneel next to him so that he could tell her everything was going to be all right and that this was all just some joke they were all playing on her, but there was a pincer-like grip around her upper arm and she could not take even one step nearer to him. She was forced to stand, looking down on the bent and once-proud merchant that was her father.  
  
"Girl, this be yer father, the richest and most successful merchant 'n the Spanish Main-say goodbye, ye wont be seein' him for a long while," and with that her father was wrestled off the ground and manhandled over to the starboard side of the ship, now silhouetted against the dark nighttime sky and the full moon. One of the men pulled out the plank. To Rhiannon it was like watching a seaman's version of a hanging. The dastardly pirate- captain, Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl was going to force a daughter to watch her father walk the plank and drown. Then she would be alone, at the mercy of the pirates to do with her what they will; Rhiannon shuddered at the thought.  
  
Jack propelled, still with the vice-like hold on her arm over to where they were chaining a cannonball to her father's ankle. Her eyes were getting misty-but she would not let a single tear fall. Rhiannon Bathoe would not give in and let this band of brutes and their behemoth captain witness a weakness from her. I will not cry for them, she vowed to herself.  
  
"Any last parting words ye would like t'say t'yer father before he joins Davie Jones in his underwater locker?" Jack asked her.  
  
She glared daggers at the odious man-her fright was slowly giving way to rage. She was infuriated, furious that she could not control the situation. Striving to struggle out of his fixed grip on her arm, she stomped on his toe.  
  
"Eh now, love! That wasn' very nice, how would you like it if I did that t' ye?" he eyed her with a smirk on his face and she feared for a moment that he really would repay her with a stamp on her foot, or worse.  
  
Jack noticed that there was a fierceness beginning to grow in her midnight- colored eyes and that her cheeks were flushed. He, in a way, like the effect her anger was having on her. It would definitely make things more interesting dealing with this feisty vixen.  
  
"Let me go to my father Captain Sparrow," her voice was almost caustic with acrimony. He may be a pirate, but he still had an ounce of decency in him (when he felt like it), so he let her go to him-if only to say farewell. As soon as her released his hold on her, she shot from his arms and went to her father.  
  
"I'll not say goodbye, Papa," Jacks keen ears picked up the whispered message. He watched as her father brought both of his bound hands up to brush across her face with his knuckles and to sweep a curl away behind her ear. They were both kneeling on their knees and he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead, as he did so her eyes were closed as were his and for a second they were at peace. Simultaneously they opened their eyes again and Rhiannon leaned forward and snuggled her head into the base of his neck, digging her nose into his collar so as to smell the sent of him, like pipe smoke and the briny sea-and always remember it. Her father managed to slip something off of his right index finger and he dropped it into her dress pocket. "Rhia, sweetheart, I'm sorry we didn't have much time to spend together. I am very glad I did get to see you though, you have grown into a fine young woman," his eyes took on a wistful expression as he studied her face, "Keep my ring near your heart and I will always be with you. I love you, Rhiannon, always remember that."  
  
"I love you too Papa," Rhiannon's voice cracked and she choked on the words.  
  
Some of the softer hearted crew members, such as the cook and the others who had loving families of their own, could be seen with stricken looks of utter sorrow, pity, or even tears on their faces. Many others had the blank expressions of those that either didn't care, or were immune to such profound emotion. Jack felt as if he were spectacle to something that he ought not to be, and decided they had had long enough.  
  
He motioned for his first mate to hoist her father up to his feet and he grabbed her by the back of her dress (catching some of her hair as well) and dragged her to her wobbly feet. She yelped softly in pain when some hairs snapped but otherwise remained silent, her moist eyes were fixated only on her dear father.  
  
Her father, Brynn Bathoe, was made to step up onto the short walk to his death. Someone had to help him with the canon ball, seeing as how it was dragging his foot down. They cut the bindings that tied his wrists together and handed the weight of his life into his arms.  
  
Rhiannon felt a lump in her throat and swallowed noisily, her breathing coming short. She watched as he walked (carrying the heavy sphere of metal in his tired arms) out halfway and turned back towards everyone.  
  
He shifted the canon ball into one arm and blew her a kiss before saluting Jack Sparrow. Then he turned swiftly and nimbly on his heel and ran the last few feet and jumped. Seconds later they heard a loud splash and that was the end of that.  
  
It took a few moments for it all to sink in for Rhiannon, but when it did she crumbled to the floor and found herself sitting with her skirts an island about her; her head was bowed and her still-bound arms ached at the shoulder. Suddenly she raised her face to the sky and shook back her locks.  
  
"Mama, Papa.don't leave me, don't leave me here alone," her voice was hushed and rasping as she held back the torment of tears threatening to bring about another rainstorm. Her ashen face was illuminated with the moonlight and full of anguish. Jack had to admit to himself while watching her face of pain-personified, that she was beautiful and was so filled to brimming with emotion that it stunned him.  
  
After the merchant Bathoe had plunged to his ending, most of the crew lost interest and had made their way back to the Pearl. Some lingered and he sent them below to gather the girl's things and to loot anything of any value and take it back to his own ship. He also ordered a few men to start drenching everything in kerosene and to light what would burn fastest. It had stopped raining, so the fire was sure to catch.  
  
Once they were gone and the fires were beginning to rage behind him, he gathered the unresponsive bundle of girl into his arms and carried her over to the rail. He wrapped a thick rope a few times around one of his wrists, shifted her in his arms so that he held her tightly by her slender waist, and swung himself and his burden over to his ebony-colored ship deck. Once there he motioned for a crew member to approach him.  
  
"Take her b'low-down to the bilge, lock her in one o'them birdcages down there an' return the key t'me aft' wards."  
  
He would be seeing to her later, but for now he needed to prepare everyone to commence their voyage over the choppy waters.  
  
"Alright ye scurvy dogs, we've got places t' be, ships t' plunder, gold t' steal!!" At the sound of his bellowing order, everyone immediately commenced to scurrying about and doing their jobs. Captain Sparrow made his way towards the helm and stopped at the beckoning of his first mate.  
  
"What are we gonna do about the Dragon Cap'n?" he inquired and pointed towards Bathoe's green sailed ship.  
  
"Scuttle it," was all Jack said and immediately the cannons were loaded.  
  
"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs, the first mate nodded his head of gray hair and turned to shout directions to the rest of the crew, "Come about! Ready the cannons mates!"  
  
All at once, nine black spheres sped through the air and blew gaping black holes in the green sailed sea craft. Immediately a fire ignited and the ship began to tip to one side as water escaped inside through the openings. There was no one there to neither bail it out, nor extinguish the flames and quite soon it was consumed by fire and water simultaneously.  
  
Below deck, peering through the same hole that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had looked through no more than half a year ago, Rhiannon watched as her father's pride and joy disappeared beneath the waves. Soon all that she could see was the flaming Union Jack that used to fly proudly at the top of the tallest mast sink below the surface of the undulating waters. It steamed as the flames charring its edges were finally put out. Then it was gone, now home to the fish as well as the dead bodies of its honest and hardworking crew. Rhiannon had to look away.  
  
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A/N: Just a few little tid-bits. If anyone was wondering how to pronounce 'Bathoe"-Rhiannon's last name, its Ba-(as in the British pronunciation of 'can') and thoy-(rhymes with 'boy'). It's a common Welsh surname. Also, I'll try and have the next chapter posted tomorrow; all depends on how much homework my slave drivers-I mean teachers, decide to dump on me.  
  
Empress SLOR: Thank You so much!! This was my first fic and I was really expecting the flames to come rolling in. You get a golden star for being my first reviewer! *sticks little golden star-sticker on your forehead* p.s. oh poo! I'm sure your fics are simply loverly! 


	3. Foggy Fear

Disclaimer: Yes, of course I own Pirates of the Caribbean. Where have you been? Didn't you see my name in the credits?!................  
Pfft..riiiight, and the monkey is my uncle. If you did not catch the sarcasm then I worry for you. Anyways, don't steal my stuff and I won't steal yours.  
  
A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this next chapter posted. I have about 5 of the chapters already written and just need to be revised before I post them, but there was a power outage a couple of days ago and the router got fried-even though there where two little power surge protector things to make sure it didn't get sizzled. So I had no internet for 3 days and was simply going mad. I have a bald spot from where I tore out a clump of hair *points to bald spot* see!? But anyways, here it is! Thank you to those who have reviewed, I really appreciate it. For everyone else-enjoy!  
  
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Sometime while Rhiannon had been sitting their alone in her cell, deep in the bowels of the fabled Black Pearl, she had fallen asleep. Her knees were brought up to her chest and she wished she could wrap her arms around them, but couldn't because of her still-bound wrists. Her head drooped and rested in the hollow made between her legs and her chest. While she slept, she dreamed.  
  
...:.*.:...  
  
Rhiannon was standing on a cobbled street with towering buildings to the left and right that rose until they disappeared into the blackness that was all around. She could only see about twenty feet in font and behind of her, for everything else was lost in the soupy fog that crawled its way along the street and swirled in the air. She could see a glowing yellow orb that sort of resembled the fluff of a dandelion ahead of her that she supposed must be the light from a streetlamp.  
  
She felt an unexplainable, urgent need to run in that direction, to get to that street lamp. It was as if there was something there; waiting for her that she needed and wanted sorely but was not going to stay for long. She had to get to it, she was sure of it.  
  
She started walking (her feet kicking up the mist so that it looked like cloudy water splashing about her in slow motion) towards the one bright spot in the sea of gloom and paused after she had taken only ten steps in that direction. Scrunching up her face in confusion, she started walking again, this time at a faster pace and she thought to count her steps. Thirty steps, she ought to have been very near the street lamp by now. Alas it was as it had been before, just as far, yet antagonizing near as it had been no more than forty steps behind her.  
  
Maybe if I run at it I will get closer. This fog must be playing tricks on my eyes, and a dreadful fog it is too.  
  
So she ran, and she ran some more; she ran until her chest ached and there were stitches in her side, her breath coming in pants. Still, it was to no avail, the retched lamp was as it had always been. Rhiannon made as if to stomp her foot in frustration, but stopped suddenly with her foot no more than an inch over the ground. She set her foot down softly and listened intently. Something had made a noise a second before her foot would have come into contact with the ground. The echo rang down the street, bouncing off of cobbles and buildings and making her ears ring.  
  
Rhiannon feared that something sinister was lurking in the dark, close behind her. She sensed it just out of her sigh, hidden by the dense fog. Worried the thing, whatever it was, would come after her; Rhiannon ran full tilt towards the light. She ran for what seemed like hours, but by the reckoning of the lamplight, she hadn't moved and inch. Rhiannon's whirling mind could make no sense of it and as she was running, her toe was caught by one of the cobbles and she fell to the ground, hard. Her palms were skinned and her knees bruised. She screamed out and something like a giant mass in the shape of a black wolf pinned her to the ground and went to tear out her throat.  
  
She awoke suddenly when she heard a clattering of metal; trembling and sweating and cold. Shivering, she looked around to find what had made the noise, fear still bubbling in her chest and she almost shrieked when she saw a blacker shape in the black around her. Then the shadow stepped forward into the light..  
  
Rhiannon looked up and found herself peering through the bars at the face of Jack Sparrow, twirling a large key around his index finger. There was a shadow across his face and it covered his eyes so that she could see not but a twinkle confirming their existence. She was curled in the far corner of her cell on the damp and disgusting floor and she inwardly cowered.  
  
"Well good eve'nin, missy. Have a nice forty winks did we, love?"  
  
"Is it you I can thank for the untimely wake up call, Mr. Sparrow?" Rhiannon inquired, her voice seething with sarcasm.  
  
"Aye, love," he grinned cockily and she turned away, rolling her eyes. "I think it would be silly for me to say 'thank you', so I hope you don't mind me skipping that part," she returned.  
  
"Well-Rhiannon.uh..can I call ye Rhia?" when she did not respond he went on, "As I was sayin', love, ye are now on me ship, under me command. Ye can accept that or ye can't, yer choice, but either way yer still mine, savvy?" He waited for her to respond, and all she did was look up at him with cold eyes for a second before turning away again. He stopped twirling the key on his finger that would unlock the door into her cell, and turned it in the lock. He swung the door open and stepped inside.  
  
As he neared Rhiannon let her fear take over her and she backed farther into the corner with each step he took. When his boot's toes were right under her nose, she finally gathered enough courage to glare straight up at him, with eyes full of defiance.  
  
"Please, move farther away Mr. Sparrow," said Rhiannon softly and tersely, her voice like wind rustling through fall leaves. He noticed it was pleasant sounding, very feminine with a proper British accent, but with a soft huskiness that spoke of overcast days with wind sighing through tall grasses.  
  
"My apologies Miss Bathoe," he brought his hands together in front of him, with the fingertips together as if in apology and bowed as if taunting her, "But yer company is jus' so pleasurable," he grinned brashly and took a step backwards, aware that that was less than she had hoped he would give but knew she wouldn't say anything. He could tell this one was stubborn and prideful. "Stand up, love. Look at me, here in the eyes."  
  
She stood up slowly, trying not to sway on her exhausted limbs so as to give away even more weakness, but to stand up straight and tall. She found that even when she was standing her tallest, Jack was still a full hand and a half taller than she and she also became aware of how nervous she was with him cornering her against the bars of her cell. She had no where to run and had no where else to look beside his chest in front of her. In order to see his eyes, she had to tilt her head back quite far. He looked down at her, into her spiteful midnight-blue eyes and she looked up into his kohl-rimmed mahogany ones.  
  
"Ye do understand that I am a pirate, and what I did t' night was what pirates do? Yer father was a rich man, an' so, a good target for pillagers and plunderers such as we. No prey, no pay, savvy?" he stated to her, holding his arms out to the sides as if in apology. She turned away.  
  
"You are a pirate, that is nothing to be proud of and gives no excuse to murder," she said the last word with such seething anger in her voice that it made him grab her under the chin and force her to face him.  
  
"Ye really ought'a lighten up, love," he chuckled lightly and smiled brilliantly, she couldn't help admiring how handsome his face was and she wanted to slap herself for it. Even under all the grim his arrestingly good looks shone through and Rhiannon found herself studying his features intensely. She traced the strong but graceful line of his jaw with her eyes, noting the high and pronounced cheekbones as well as the soft, kissable lips.  
  
He watched her surveying of his countenance and paid close attention as her stunning eyes moved from one feature to the next. Her eyes were wide and innocent, lined with thick, dark lashes.  
  
"Like what ye see, love? I could show ye more," he quirked a cocky eyebrow and a saucy, lopsided smile graced his lips. This caused her to look swiftly away and to back even farther against the wall; she wished she could slap him across his comely face for that brassy remark.  
  
Blast these ropes, ooh once I get my hands free...  
  
"I think it would be good if you were to leave now Mr. Sparrow," she said, not looking at him anymore. He missed her lovely face turned towards his, wanted her to look at him longer and let him capture her rosebud lips with his.  
  
"Ye can call me Jack, love. Ready?" with that he turned towards the door once more and began to push the door outwards. He stopped halfway through the cells threshold before looking back at her still backed away into the corner. "Come love, I'm gonna take ye to yer room, unless ye'd rather stay here," he gestured animatedly, his hands gesticulating about like bird wings-sparrow wings. She glanced about her, but did not take much of what she saw in. He stepped aside from the doorway and bowed, motioning for her to precede him out, but she did not move. He quirked and eyebrow and crossed one arm against his chest. With the other arm, he brought his hand up to his face and began to inspect the condition of his nails. He rubbed the filthy nails on his just as filthy shirt as if to clean them off then looked up at her inquiringly.  
  
"I'm not coming with you Mr. Sparrow. I would much rather stay here in this abominable cage than go anywhere with the likes of you," she spat the last word out contemptuously with the most stuck up expression on her face imaginable. She turned away with her nose in the air.  
  
Jack didn't say anything for a moment, and contemplated the aloof girl. "Ye would rather stay here, love? Its much nicer upstairs, ye know..but all right, if that be what ye want.." He turned and grabbed her wrists. She gasped and tried to yank them out of his grip. She didn't know what he was doing and it was worrying her. He then slipped a knife from out of his belt (causing her to shriek in fear of what he might be planning to do with that blade) and sliced the ropes that still bound her. A moment later she heard the cell door slam closed and his retreating footsteps walk away and become muffled in the dark gloom. Rhiannon rubbed her sore wrists in confusion and almost thought about calling out, telling him she had changed her mind and then gone with him to a nice clean room, but she checked herself. She must honor her father; she could not be weak and cave in, submitting herself over to the odious Captain Sparrow. She must be strong. Maybe if Jack saw that she wasn't going to yield herself to him, he would give up and release her.  
  
Looking about her, she finally took in the state of her cell. Though there was not much light to see by, it was obvious to her that the area was utterly disgusting. It was the epitome of impurity, the embodiment of filth. The floor was damp and it reeked of mold and decay-nothing like her posh little bedchamber back home.  
  
Clearly Captain Jack isn't very strict when it comes to cleanliness. Here Rhiannon snorted, thinking about what she had just said in her mind. Well Rhia that was the understatement of the century. Of course he's not strict when it comes to cleanliness, just look at him..Ooh, just think how the ton would talk if they found out where I was right now.  
  
Deciding she should do what she could to improve the space, she made herself busy. She used her feet to scoot the nasty rags out underneath the bars as well as any other debris within the enclosure. She scrubbed the brightest corner (the one closest to the kerosene-lamp on the wall a few feet away) with the hem of her skirt and sat down. Arranging her skirts about her so that none of her skin touched the less-then-spotless floor, she curled up and closed her eyes. A small sob escaped her when she remembered her father, she missed him. Hell, she even missed her twit of a mother, but she would not let it get to her, she must be as strong as she could.  
  
Then and there she resolved to try and escape these bloody pirates and to get off that foul boat. As soon as she accomplished that she would make her way as quick as she could to Port Royale and find Commodore Norrington. He would know what to do about these ruffians; maybe she could even provide the Commodore with some valuable information that could aid in the capture of that odious Jack Sparrow. She smiled a cat-like grin in satisfaction before drifting off to sleep.  
  
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A/N: Ta-da! I hope you all liked it and I plan to have the next chapter up either by tonight or tomorrow. Please R&R!  
  
ArenynCai: Why thank'ee Pooter for the review.but don't you think you could have been a little more enthusiastic, hmm? teeheehee.muah! 3 much love. 


	4. Barrel Bathing and a Bare Naked Ladyteeh...

Disclaimer: Is this really necessary..? I think we have all been drilled in this enough times to know the deal.  
  
A/N: Fourth chapter and 5 reviews! Whoo! I'm on a roll! Keep 'um comin' guys and I'll keep the chapters coming! Deal? Deal.  
  
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When Rhiannon awoke in the morning there was a tray of some stale bread and some ale on the floor near the door. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and crawled over to the appreciated victuals. Before beginning to tear into the food as she would have liked to, she looked around for anyone lurking in the gloom that could be watching her. Satisfied that there was no one to see her, she tore into the bread (after inspecting it closely for anything funny looking about it and sniffed to make sure it smelled right-Never can tell what these bloody pirates will do) in a very un-ladylike manner and swallowed the huge piece before it was properly chewed. She had consumed more than half the loaf of bread before remembering that there was a drink for her as well. Realizing that she was quite thirsty, she took a large draught out of the crude clay mug before spewing it out in front of her. Just at that precise moment, Jack decided walk up to her. He had caught the scene of her discharging her drink and arched an eyebrow in speculation.  
  
"Something not right with yer rum, love?" queried Jack. "Yes.the fact that it is rum is what's wrong!" replied Rhiannon, her face twisted in distaste.  
  
"Wha-," here Jack looked completely befuddled, "What do ye mean 'the fact that it is rum'? What's wrong with rum?"  
  
"I do not drink rum Mr. Sparrow; I much prefer tea or water. Rum is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels," Jack couldn't help roll his eyes in exasperation when she said this.  
  
What is it with these respectable types!? Do their mothers drill nonsense like this into their heads from birth!? I wonder if her and that Miss Elizabeth ever knew each other..  
  
"Don't you roll your eyes at ME, sir! I demand that you bring me something decent to drink!" By now she was standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at him through the bars.  
  
"Sorry love, but I can't do that," Jack responded, a look of pure amusement across his face when he saw her eyes widen and lean closer.  
  
"And.Why.Not?" She punctuated each syllable with a pause, her face full of consternation.  
  
"Well, mostly love, because there ain't nothing else t' drink, this is all we got 'cept maybe some stale water and I don't suspect ye'll be wantin' that anymore than the rum," he held his arms out at his sides in apology, then he leaned in close so that their noses were only separated by the bars, "Ye could come out of there and see fer yerself if ye wanted, love."  
  
Rhiannon straightened up and said, "You said it yourself Mr. Sparrow, there isn't anything else for me to drink so I might as well not waste my time and stay where I am." With that she turned away, her small nose in the air, and sat back down gracefully, silently dismissing him from her presence. Jack sighed and shook his head.  
  
Stubborn chit. This may very well take longer than I thought, but she'll warm up to me, mark my words.  
  
With that he left her to return above deck to command his crew on their journey to Tortuga. He couldn't wait to dock and step off his ship to enjoy a night partaking in the delights Tortuga had to offer. Inns, rum and some pleasurable company were all first on his to-do list.  
  
"Coulda had a taste o' that pleasurable comp'ny already..," he grumbled as he made his way up the stairs.  
  
"She still refusin' t' come out Cap'n?" asked First Mate Gibbs.  
  
"Aye, she's puttin' up a good fight, silly chit. I'll just let her brood down there for a while and she'll be begging t' be let out o' that birdcage by the end o' the day, just ye wait an' see Gibbs," and with that the two marauding men made there way to the helm, speaking enthusiastically of all the excitement that awaited them in Tortuga.  
  
Rhiannon sat shivering in her gown, devoid of any sort of cloak or coat, and hugged herself to try and hold in as much warmth as possible. She finished the bread and then looked at the tankard of rum with distaste. She was parched though, and so curled her slender finger around the handle and lifted it towards her mouth. She held her nose with her other hand while she drained the mug as quickly as she could. Her face scrunched as if she were taking some nasty medicine and she hiccupped once it was all gone. It had burned as it ran down her throat and she now felt a tad bit lightheaded. Her eyes were having trouble focusing without making her a tad but dizzy, so she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the bars of the cell.  
  
Blasted rum, I'm sure to have an awful headache to keep me company for the rest of the day. Mother would be absolutely appalled if she found out. She resigned herself to sitting herself in the corner and pondering.  
  
Interesting bit of fate this is. First I'm shipped off to be married to a stranger, next I'm actually held prisoner on a pirate ship. What next? Flying pigs and dancing bears?.....She continued on like this, getting herself into a right frenzy. She got up and began to pace, attempting to release some of the pent up anger and energy boiling up inside of her. Grr.I ought to box that Sparrow fellow's ears when I next see him. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll tell him to let me out of here and I'll bash his head in as soon as the door is open..  
  
She stopped when she heard a faint footfall behind her. She turned to see someone new standing there. It startled her for a second, for she had been expecting Jack to be the one sneaking up on her, but it was a young man with dirty blonde hair and a blue bandana tied around his neck. He took a quick swig from a small 'black jack' and then addressed her.  
  
"Miss Rhiannon, the Cap'n wanted to inform ye of our 'imminent arrival at port'-at least I think that's what he said, don't rightly know the meanin' of them big words, but I think it means that were getting close.." He stopped when she interrupted.  
  
"What port?" she asked of him, hoping he meant Port Royale.  
  
"Well, Tortuga a' course.where did ye think we was goin'?" he answered her and her shoulders sagged as her excitement deflated, "Anyways, he told me t' ask ye if ye would kindly join him fer dinner?"  
  
Rhiannon thought about this before answering him. If she refused him it might let him know exactly how much she loathed him and that she refused to let him control her, but if she agreed, she might have a chance to escape. She weighed her choices and then made up her mind.  
  
'Of course I'll join the Captain for dinner, I would be positively delighted," she said with a voice of poisoned honey. She batted her long eyelashes for effect and gave him her most charismatic smiles. He smiled at this and unlocked the gate to her cell. He bowed her out and she rolled her eyes as she passed him. Leading her up to the next floor in the ship she found herself in an area of the boat that had much nicer conditions that where she had been so far. She could see that up here, the floor were recently scrubbed and there were quite a few less cobwebs and other undistinguishable items..in fact, there were none at all.  
  
Hmm.maybe I misjudged the loathsome Captain Sparrow after all, his ship isn't all that disgusting..just he is..Rhiannon snorted as she thought this and her escort glanced at her questioningly. She merely smiled and he continued leading her to wherever she would be dining with the Captain, or so she supposed.  
  
They soon came to a door stained just as black as the whole rest of the ship but there was a carving on the front of the door in the shape of some sort of bird flying in front of a setting sun, its rays reaching fingers out over the sea and into the heavens. Her guide opened the door for her, bowed and stepped aside so that she could enter. Without a word of thanks to him, she made to sweep past him with and imperious and haughty look on her lovely face, but the effect was shattered when he pinched her behind as she passed. She shrieked in surprise and jumped into the room.  
  
She turned around and the door was slammed closed before she could assail him with a barrage of verbal attack. She heard his bawdy laughter lower in volume as he walked away. She clenched her hands by her sides and sucked air through her teeth, seething. Bloody pirates...  
  
"Ahem.," she turned quickly at the sound of someone else's voice in the room.  
  
"Oh.it's you," she said this unenthusiastically, "Mr. Sparrow, would you mind telling your crew to KEEP THEIR PAWS TO THEMSELVES!? I don't enjoy being violated in such a manner if you do not mind." Rhiannon crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air.  
  
In mock seriousness, Jack gave her the 'customized Jack Sparrow bow', "Oh, will do love, will do...but first I thought ye might like t' get yerself tidied up a bit before we proceed to our.er.dinning arrangement?" She looked at him and nodded. He grinned widely and stepped aside as if unveiling the result of some magic trick and revealed a large barrel. Walking the long was around the table, so as not to have to pass to closely to him, she came up to the barrel and peered inside. It was full of water. She regarded the renegade in front of her with an expression on her face that seemed to say, "What is this? Some kind of joke?"  
  
"What do you expect me to do with this?" she asked of him, the fact that she thought he was completely mad clear in her voice.  
  
"Why, bathe ye self a' course," he answered evenly.  
  
"I thought you said there was no water on board," she reminded him scornfully.  
  
"I didn't say there was no water aboard, love. Just that there was none to drink. Ye can't drink stale water, but it makes no diff'rence t' bathe in it, now does it?" he countered, smirking when she sniffed and rolled her eyes. With that, he bowed once more and turned to leave.  
  
Rhiannon was too intent on stripping off her filthy clothes, now dirty beyond repair, and getting into the water (even if it was cold) that she didn't pay any attention to hear if the door closed or make sure that he left. She undid the top buttons of her dress down the back and then pulled it off. She popped off one of the remaining buttons as she ripped it the rest of the way off and threw it to the side, moving on to the corset. She had some difficulty with the laces and managed in the end, discarding it to the floor and began with the buttons on the front of her petticoat. Then she stopped when she hear the scuffing of a boot.  
  
As quick as lightning, her head snapped in the direction of the door, where she saw Jack standing-one leg crossed over the other as he leaned against the door jam and a raptorial grin on his face. His dark eyes glittered, and her jaw dropped.  
  
She snapped her gaping mouth shut and her teeth clicked with the impact. She collected herself enough to blare out, "WHAT do you think you are DOING!? Get out! NOW!" She crossed the room in a few long strides and pushed him from the room and slammed the door in his face with as much force as she possessed. It sent the wood of the floor and walls to shuddering. She could hear someone say "shiver me timbers" as they passed by the door and she smiled to herself in satisfaction. Shiver me timbers indeed, I never understood that term until now...she giggled and then doffed the rest of her garments and practically leapt into the water-filled barrel. She spent what seemed like hours scrubbing her skin, turning it pink with the intensity of her efforts and then submerged her hair and did the same to it. She looked around for something that would help scrub the grime off of her skin and noticed something that looked like coarse, handmade animal-fat soap. She grabbed it off the nearby dresser and used it to wash her entire body.  
  
Sighing in contentment, she sunk down into the water and closed her eyes. Just as she thought she might dose off, the door burst open behind her. She shrilled in alarm and just barely was able to catch herself before jumping up, and so revealing her not-so-covered-self to the kohl rimmed eyes of Jack Sparrow.  
  
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A/N: Sorry about such a short chapter, but I had to cut the fun off somewhere other wise the next chapter would have been insanely long. Just a couple of thanks to my latest reviewers:  
  
TrappedAndAnnoyed: Ta, love!! ^_^  
  
Oil Pastel: Thanks so much! I'll try to update as often as possible!  
  
I hope to get the next bit up soon, all depends on how much homework I get *shakes fist at teachers*, but as soon as I can I will have it posted. It could be up by tomorrow and at the longest it will only take a few days. Keep reading and reviewing and I'll keep writing! Ta-ra! 


	5. Dining at the 'Prancing Pirate'

Disclaimer: yeah yeah yeah..  
  
A/N: Here's the 5th chapter. We last left Rhiannon taking a bath in a barrel. Yes, a barrel. Hope you all like it! Now shoo! Go read!  
  
Oh-and by the way, I have belatedly noticed that anything I had put into italics when I wrote this on Microsoft Word, are no longer in italics once its uploaded onto ff.net. I apologize for this, I know it must have irked some people, and I shall try to fix those mistakes as soon as possible. From now on, I will be using these( // at the beginning and end of each thought said inside of a characters head and these( * around words that I wish to emphasize. Again, terribly sorry for my blunder!!  
  
............................... Where we last left off:  
  
Sighing in contentment, she sunk down into the water and closed her eyes. Just as she thought she might dose off, the door burst open behind her. She shrilled in alarm and just barely was able to catch herself before jumping up, and so revealing her not-so-covered-self to the kohl rimmed eyes of Jack Sparrow.  
  
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She gawked as he strode across the room and came within two feet of her and set a pile of folded clothes on a chair and hung a towel over the back. She pressed herself as close as she could to the sides of the barrel and shrank as far below the rim in an attempt to conceal as much of her bare body as she could. He looked at her, a cocky grin on his face that just screamed "I dare ye t' get out o' that tub." He began to circle the tub, always with his eyes on her.  
  
"Mr. Sparrow, I would ask that you vacate this chamber immediately! Do you have no decency what so ever?..Or are you just blind, because if you haven't yet noticed, 'mon capitaine', I am not wearing any clothes!" Rhiannon glared daggers at him and clenched her small fists in anger when he merely grinned.  
  
"Oh, aye, I *have* noticed, love. That's exactly why I haven't left yet, savvy?" He arched one of his dark eyebrows and his terribly handsome face cracked into a wide grin plated in gold. She couldn't help admiring just how good looking he really was..  
  
//Rhiannon what are you doing! You are supposed to be yelling at him, not *fawning* over him! Get a grip on yourself, girl!//  
  
She felt like hitting herself in the forehead, but thought it would look mightily odd if she did. She wasn't really quite sure whether other people had such interesting monologues in their heads all the time, but she wasn't exactly pouncing to find out.  
  
"Mr. Sparrow, I demand that you exit through that door," she pointed at the only door in the room, so as to make sure there was no way he could twist her words in any way, "Over there, and shut it behind you, so that I can exit this barrel of a bathtub and get dressed. We do have a dinner to attend do we not?" Rhiannon watched as he considered this, hoping he would take the bait and leave, she didn't really fancy having to find a way to get out of the tub, dry herself off, and get re-dressed all without him seeing while he was standing right there. Rhiannon figured he wouldn't really mind that awkward situation, since it would really only be awkward for her..*but* she wasn't the one to privilege him so, he could pay people for that. In fact, she was quite sure he spent many a doubloon on just such a practice.  
  
"Aye, yer right, we do have a dinner to be gettin' to. Right then, I'll leave ye to get dressed, but I'm only givin' ye three minutes," he held up three long and tapered fingers and with that he turned on his tail, and swaggered his way from the room. Rhiannon cautiously raised herself from the water, listening intently for any footsteps or door creaks and slowly got out of the tub, shaking the excess from each foot the way a cat does when wet and agitated. She was sure that had she a tail like a cat, it would be twitching madly from side to side, for she was grumpy and (thanks to her long barrel-bath) wrinkly to boot.  
  
She grabbed the towel off of the chair and dried herself, focusing on her sopping curls. Rhiannon then looked to the clothes he had brought her. Thankfully it was one of her own gowns, but it was not exactly her favorite- her mother had picked it out for her, hoping it would catch the eye of some eligible bachelor of the 'ton' and make the other mother's jealous that their daughters weren't wearing the same thing. It was scarlet red silk with belled and slashed sleeves that revealed lavender silk underneath. She wondered why Jack Sparrow had to randomly choose this very dress and then she checked herself.  
  
//Hah! Oh no, I don't think he chose this dress randomly, he was probably up there with then all laid out side by side and then this one won his favor because of the horrible low neckline and the itty bitty waist.yes that sounds closer to the truth.//  
  
Resigning herself, she snatched up the new petticoat and corset that had been brought along with the dress (//funny how he should know so much about what clothes a lady has to put on, seeing as how I'm quite positive he has had more experience with ripping them off//) and slipped into the petticoat. Then she picked up the corset and looked at it, contemplating how she was going to manage to put it on by herself without someone to help tie the laces. She went through a few experimental runs of putting it on backwards and tying the laces from the front, but it was so tight that she could not turn it around the right way and the petticoat would end up all twisted and bunched up, then she tried tying it from the back but her arms would not reach. After about five attempts, she threw the blasted article to the ground and went to stomp on it. Just as she was about to crush some of the fragile whale-bone ribs that made it keep its form, she was grabbed around the waist and flung to the side. Once her feet touched the floor and she regained some of her senses, she turned and found the abhorrent captain lifting her corset from the ground by the tip of his sword. He held it out to her, under her nose.  
  
"Now, now love. Don't get yerself in a tizzy over one silly little corset. If ye needed help, ye could only have asked," Rhiannon grabbed the garment off the end of his cutlass and then glared, replying fiercely, "Where in the bleedin' hell did you come from!?"  
  
"I said I would give ye three minutes," he held up the same three long and grimy fingers, "And yer three minutes were up," he folded the three fingers into a fist. "Lucky I had come, or ye would have destroyed that beyond repair. Now turn around and I'll help ye put' on." He made a gesture with his fingers as if he were stirring a drink that she took to mean "turn- around".  
  
"I most certainly will not! I don't even know why you are in here! I'm in my petticoats for goodness sakes!" Realizing just how indecently covered she was in front of him, she searched for something to cover herself with. Spying the discarded towel, she grabbed it and drapped it in front of her.  
  
"Blimey! Lass, belay that codswollop. Yer talking nonsense. Yer perfectly covered...a bit too covered for me likin', but I 'spose twill only be a matter of good time," he awarded her with a cheeky grin, "Now turn around and let me help you, I'm getting hungry and tired of waiting," he advanced and snatched the corset from her hands. When she didn't turn around immediately, he told her, "Look, love, I'm getting *real* impatient here. Either you turn around, or I'll pick you up and carry you out of here over my shoulder as you are." He gave her a pointed look showing her that he was quite serious.  
  
"O-only if you close your eyes, sir," she added tentatively, hoping he wouldn't decide to snatch her up right then and there and carry her off.  
  
"Alright, love," he sighed and rolled his eyes. With that he unwrapped some ratty piece of cloth that had been wound about his wrist and tied it behind his head. "Now, guide me hands and I shall help ye."  
  
She took the corset from his hands and put it on then turned and awkwardly guided his hands to the laces on the back. "Pull," she said and pull he did. She gasped for air like a fish out of water but he kept pulling. She tried telling him to stop but there was no wind in her to fill her lungs and she could say nothing. She began to swoon-spots swam before her eyes and then everything went black-and she dropped in a faint to the floor, pulling him down along with her like a horse pulls the rider attached to its reins.  
  
"Yearrrgh!" The blindfolded Jack landed with a thud on top of the unconscious girl, "Ooof." He ripped of the blindfold and looked down at her beneath him. "Well, love. I had hoped to be in this position sometime, but not quite under these exact circumstances," and with that he ripped off the corset, but she did not wake. Making a quick decision, he leaned over her and breathed into her mouth, giving her mouth to mouth resuscitation. Soon her eyes fluttered open and widened to the size of saucer plates.  
  
She tried to push his bulk off of her, but to no avail. He just laid there, the length of his body pinning her to the floor with this head propped up on his elbow, the other casually inspecting his fingernails while she beat on his chest and screeched.  
  
"Get off of me you great lout of a man! Get off! Let me up!" her face was turning red with the strength of her anger and indignation. It was almost hard to distinguish the transition from her usually pale face to her flaming-red and damp curls.  
  
"Now calm down, love," Jack brushed the hair out of her face and looked calmly into her frantic eyes, "Just reef yer sails, lass. Aye, that's it, take a deep breath," he breathed with her and watched as the flush palled from her face and her breathing slowed.  
  
Rhiannon took a deep breath and then continued in a more calmed manner, "Captain Sparrow, kindly would you help me to my feet so that I can finish dressing and then we can make our way to dinner." He obliged her and lifted himself up, then extended his arm down to her. She tentatively reached out to grasp his proffered hand and flinched back as their fingertips touched. She looked up into his eyes and saw something in there that gave her strength and clasped his hand tightly. He lifted her to her feet easily and then stepped back, conscious that he must be delicate with her in this mood.  
  
"Thank you, kind sir," Rhiannon ducked her head, dipping into a small curtsy and then once again picked up the dreaded corset. She looked at it unsurely and then turned to him, "Um.would you mind helping me?"  
  
"With pleasure, love, but..would ye mind skippin' the blindfold this time 'round?" He gave her a lopsided grin and she nodded vigorously. She did not want to go through what just happened *again*.  
  
He held out the corset with both hands and Rhiannon ducked under one of his arms so that she stood with his arms around her and her back to him. She lifted her slender arms above her head and Jack cinched the corset around her. He would pull one lace at a time, waiting for her approval before moving onto the next until the entire thing was done up. Jack then picked up the dress and lifted it over her head, letting it spill down around her. Her head popped out through the neck of the dress and her arms found the sleeves. Soon enough her dress was laced up and she was running her fingers through her curls in an attempt to put them in some sort of order.  
  
Jack gently turned her around so that she was facing a mirror she had not noticed was in the room. It was a tall, full length baroque-style mirror that she deduced must have been raided from some rich merchant ship or something of the like. Rhiannon blushed crimson when she saw how low the neckline of her dress was, she felt naked even with so much fabric drapped all over her. She did admit that the overall affect was rather nice, she just felt very exposed and uncomfortable with Jack standing there behind her, staring with evident appreciation.  
  
"I think I would like to wear a different dress Mr. Sparrow," Rhiannon crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from the mirror. She always went through this with Mrs. Bathoe when he mother would try and force her to wear it to some outing or social function. As ever, Rhiannon put up a good fight and she was determined to win this time as well.  
  
Jack stepped so that he was directly in front of her, and because of his greater height had to look down to see into her eyes. He found that he rather liked this vantage point, seeing as how if he looked a little lower than her eyes, there was a lovely little bit of cleavage for him to admire at his ease. One brow quirked and he granted her a lopsided grin. "No, love, this dress will do *quite* nicely I should think."  
  
Rhiannon narrowed her eyes suspiciously and then her face flushed with bashfulness and rage. "Mr. Sparrow," she enunciated each syllable precisely, "Are you looking down my bodice, because if you are, I am most definitely changing. Now move aside and I shall go find something more suitable," she swept her way around him mumbling something that sounded like "no decency what so ever.the nerve of that incorrigible miscreant..."  
  
"Arr.ye aren't getting off that easily, love," and with that he grabbed her round the waist and hoisted her with ease over his shoulder. She shrieked in surprise.  
  
"Mr. Sparrow! Put me down this instant! Unhand me you dirty knave!" Rhiannon beat with her delicate fists on his chest and kicked her legs, but he would not put her down. He carried her out the door, up on deck, over the gangplank and across the docks. He stopped in front of the door to "The Prancing Pirate" (A/N: Sorry, I couldn't resist..one of my other obsessions happens to be LotR and my inner hobbit escaped). It was one of his favorite pubs and provided some of the best grog that could be found in Tortuga. "Arrr.," Jack growled in anticipation as he looked up at the sign swinging over the door.  
  
By now, Rhiannon's struggling had died down some, so he bounced her on his shoulder. She started to sputter in indignation but he didn't give her a chance before he unceremoniously dropped her on rear end.  
  
"Oof!" she rubbed her sore backside and glared up at him, taking a breath and opening her mouth so that she could start another angry tirade.  
  
"No need to thank me fer the ride, love," he smirked and then swooped in and grasped her by her waist and swung her to her feet in a graceful arch that brought her leaning backwards over his knee with his face bent low above hers.  
  
She sucked in a breath, thinking he might be as audacious enough as to kiss her right then and there. He leaned in until their noses nearly touched and his warm breath caressed her face, "We're here darling."  
  
He tipped her back to her feet and then started off up the stoop stairs of the rowdy pub. She was still a bit stunned from what had just taken place and simply stood there with a wide-eyed expression. He turned when he didn't hear her following him and raised his eyebrows.  
  
"If that's what ye want, love..," he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and then walked back to her. Before she knew what had happened he had grabbed her once more around the waist and she was slung like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. He gave her a swift pat on the rear before stepping over the "Prancing Pirate's" threshold and chuckled when she jerked violently and almost sent herself on a short trip to the wooden floor.  
  
"Mr. Sparrow," she gasped, and he bounced her again to shut her up. He made his way over to where some of his crew sat at a large corner table guarding the door to Captain Sparrow's private dining parlor. As he walked up there were some catcalls and hoots when they spied his burden and he grinned broadly, knowing she could not see. "Have ye brought us our dinner, Cap'n? Looks mighty tasty," some of the pirates licked their lips, leering and burst in to bawdy laughter.  
  
"Grrr..Put me down!" Rhiannon beat on Jack's back some more and he dropped her. She once again found herself on her back side on the floor and she glared up at him ferociously. Her merely grinned at him which caused her anger to flare even more and she jumped to her feet.  
  
"You, sir, are the most incorrigible,.the most impossible...argh!" Rhiannon sputtered to a halt, at a lost of words with her hands clenched tightly at her sides. "That's right, love," he patted her on the head, smoothing her tussled hair as if she were a child and then turned back to his mates. "Well, buckos, me and the lady will be adjournin' to the dining room," he stopped and grinned a Cheshire cat's grin, "so make sure we're not disturbed, eh?"  
  
The crew chuckled and their eyes followed the lovely creature that followed their captain around the table in the direction of the door to the private dining parlor. Rhiannon's eyes bore into Jack Sparrow's back. She was imagining with relish him clad in irons, flanked by a group of navy-men garbed in spotless, red uniforms and being marched to his jail cell. He would look up at her as she stood next to her husband-the dashing Commodore Norrington and she would smile like a satisfied cat. His eyes would plead with her "please, please m'lady Rhiannon" and she would shake her head and walk off with the Commodore and she would forget all about the loathsome Jack Sparrow. //Its no less than the scoundrel deserves// she told herself vehemently.  
  
While her musings consumed all of her attention, she did not noticed the serving wench that stepped backwards in front of her and she endeavored to step out of the way. Too late.  
  
Rhiannon collided right into the back of the woman and heard the crash of various mugs and tankards smash against the floor. Rhiannon stood stock still, mouth hanging agape and then she remembered to help the poor woman. She bent to try and collect some of the shattered glass pieces but felt someone grab her by the elbow and lift her to her feet. She looked up to see the cheery face of plumb face of the woman she had knocked into. The woman had mousy brown hair up in a messy bun and way too much make-up, but she seemed kind enough. //I hope she isn't angry with me// Rhiannon eyed the ale spilled all over the woman's front and grimaced.  
  
"By my stars, dear. What's a lassie like ye doin' in a place like this?" Then she noticed Jack standing off to the side, whistling as he looked at the ceiling as if he had never seen one before. "Yew, Jack Sparrow, what ye doin' with a bird like this?" she placed her hands on her ample hips and tapped her foot impatiently.  
  
"We were just on our way to dinner, Jessim-darling. I'm terribly sorry for the mess; she gets nervous with so many people around. I'll just be taking her into the parlor and you can be a good wench and bring us our dinner." Jack hurriedly steered Rhiannon away before Jessim could say another syllable and pushed Rhiannon through the door to the parlor and shut the door behind them. Jessim watched as they left, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. //He's up to somethin', mark my words, // There was something about the girl that sparked her memory and she hurried off to the bar.  
  
Meanwhile, in the parlor, Jack stood against the door frame, one leg crossed over the other and an arm crossed over his torso casually. He tugged on the braids at his chin as he watched her. She stood in the middle of the room and refused to look at him, or simply acknowledge him.  
  
"Ye know ye can't ignore me forever, love," he stated nonchalantly.  
  
"Yes I can," she turned her back on him, "I am very insulted with the way you have been treating me lately Mr. Sparrow. You let that woman think I was some sort of simpleton."  
  
"Ye'll get over it," he pushed off against the wall and sauntered over to the small, intimate table in the center of the room. He pulled the chair out and sat down, resting his dirty boots on the table top and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. He took a large bite and then held the apple out to her, as if offering her a bite. Rhiannon wrinkled her nose in distaste and tilted her nose in just the right angle that it was the most contemptuous it could get.  
  
Jack raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to join him at the table. She just stood there. Then it dawned on Jack, she was waiting for him to pull her chair out for her. He got up slowly and swaggered his way around the table, passing closely to her as he went, and then scooted the chair out from the table. She glanced at him and then the chair and sat down, not looking at Jack the whole time.  
  
"Thank you, kind sir," she said stiffly and he then went back around to his seat and sat, elbows on the table as he leaned across to her.  
  
"Call me Jack, love," he said, and then handed her an apple. Rhiannon took it tentatively, making sure not to let their fingertips touch. She brought the bright green apple back to her mouth and took a dainty bite. He look at her with his lusty, kohl rimmed eyes and watched intently as a drop of juice ran down her chin. He leaned the rest of the way across the table and kissed her on the corner of the mouth, licking the juice off with his tongue. Her eyes widened in shock and she jerked backwards, tipping her chair and crashing to the ground. Just at that precise moment, Jessim entered the room and stopped abruptly when she saw the questionable scene before her; Jack leaning over the table, and the poor girl flat on her back next to an overturned chair and her skirts in disarray, showing quite a bit of milky white leg.  
  
"Blimey! What in 'Ell's name is going on in here!? Jack, what did you do to her!? And no lies!" She pointed a threatening finger in his direction.  
  
"It's nothin' Jessim-darling. She just tripped on her skirts is all when she tried to stand up," Jessim was not fooled for a minute and crossed the room to Rhiannon's side, smoothing down her skirts and helping her to her feet for the second time in one night.  
  
"Aye, its nothin', and I'm nothin' but the Queen o' bloody England," she helped Rhiannon brush her skirts off and righted the chair. Then she marched over to Jack, and despite his greater height, she seemed to loom over him and he brought his hands up in front of him as if expecting a blow, "What did ye do t' her? If ye 'ave harmed her I'll harm ye, right?"  
  
"Right, love. Like I said, she only tripped," he eyed the rolled up parchment she held in one hand as if it were a weapon. She noticed him glance at it then remembered why she had come in here in the first place.  
  
"Jack, I have somethin 'ere that might be of int'rest to ye," she handed him the parchment and watched him unroll it. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly and then he let it roll back up on itself. "Well that's int'resting, very int'resting."  
  
"What's interesting?" asked Rhiannon, looking from one to the other in confusion, "Mr. Sparrow, what does that paper say?"  
  
Jack ignored her. "Jessim, could you have our meal brought in for us, please. That's a dear.," he herded her to the door and then forcibly pushed her through the threshold and struggled to close the door against her opposing efforts. He let his arms go limp at his sides and wiped his brow as soon as he heard the door click shut and then turned the key in the lock.  
  
"Strong girl that Jessim..Now, where we're we? Oh yes, here.," Jack walked back over to Rhiannon and wrapped his arm about her waist, pulling her close. She pushed against him, but he was stronger than she was and he leaned in closer, bringing his face very near to hers.  
  
"M-Mr. S-sparrow, sir, please..!" Jack paid no attention to her protests and guided his nose along her jaw and then nibbled on her earlobe. Rhiannon shivered at the glorious sensation and then mentally chastised herself //What am I thinking!?// She tried to ignore the fact that she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. Rhiannon racked her brain, trying to think of something that would get him to stop these ridiculous antics, and then it hit her.  
  
"Jack."  
  
He stopped when he heard her use his name. It was the first time she had used his first name and he wondered if she had finally decided to give up her stubborn resistance of his advances. "I knew ye'd warm up t' me, love." His handsome face cracked into a wide, golden grin and he looked down into her upturned face.  
  
"Jack..," Rhiannon's voice was husky and she watched as the pirate captain inclined his head once more to continue his ministrations of her earlobe. Then she searched him with her eyes, looking for where he had stashed the parchment and found what she was looking for tucked into the inside pocket of his coat. Thinking quickly, Rhiannon (not liking what she was about to do, but determined to do it) slipped her hands inside his coat. Jack smiled against the soft skin of her neck. She ran her hands up his torso and then let one stray up his neck while the other slowly made its way over to the parchment in its pocket. She was halfway to having it free when Jack grabbed her other hand (the one resting on his shoulder) and began kissing it, one finger at a time. She had to force herself not to squeak in protest or to pull her hand out of his, then quickly snatched the parchment the rest of the way out of his pocket and turned to run.  
  
She had only taken a few steps when she was jerked backwards. She looked back in confusion and saw that Jack had a tight hold on her wrist. She glared daggers at him and then struggled to pull her wrist out of his grip, "Let me go!"  
  
And he did.  
  
Rhiannon flew backwards into the wall. Jack began advancing on her again, "Now Rhia-love, that wasn't very nice. We were having such a good time and ye had to go an' steal me parchment," he placed his hands on either side of her against the wall, "Ye could have only asked."  
  
She scowled at him, and ducked under one of his arms and tried to unroll the parchment as she was chased about the room by him. She made it around to the other side of the table and finally got the paper open, but only got a glimpse of what was on the front before she felt him grab at her skirt and she dashed off once more. Rhiannon found refuge behind a chair and studied the drawing on the front-it was of Jack! Her eyes widened and she backed away into the corner as he slowly approached her. "Its you," she stated.  
  
"Aye," he replied and continued to walk towards her. Rhiannon then realized that she would be backed into a corner and trapped with no where to go if she kept going in the direction that she was, so she stepped to the side and went back to her chair, standing with it once again between him and her. She studied the parchment further-it was a wanted poster, a wanted poster for Jack.  
  
.................................  
  
A/N: So sorry it took so very long for me to update, I shall try very hard to be quicker with my postings. Just a few thank you-s to my latest reviewers:  
  
ArenynCai: Yes, I am lucky to get reviews, and that's why I thank you my lovely Pooter. I shall send Billy over with a present for you in thanks..:) oh, and Jack will be showing us more *yippie!* but all in good time, all in good time. 


	6. You're Wanted

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah..  
  
A/N: I live!! I'm sure you had all given up hope on me ever getting around to writing that next chapter.but after a fearsome battle, the dreaded writer's block was vanquished (with some help from a faithful friend.you know who you are) and my muse, which was being held prisoner, was returned to me! Yippie!  
  
Anyways, I give you all permission to dislike, even hate, me for a day (but no more than that!). Enjoy!  
  
....................................  
  
"You're wanted, Mr. Sparrow? For what pray-tell?" Rhiannon pursed her lips and continued to study the portrait of the nefarious man standing no more than five feet in front of her. Trying to calm her already jittery nerves, the girl focused on the accuracy of the sketch depicting Jack's roguish face. "You know, this portrait of you is quite well done. The resemblance is quite amazing really. I wonder how they could have captured such a detailed sketch. I supposed you have given them plenty of times to practice to get it right..," Rhiannon's voice trailed off as she looked up, expecting to see Jack still standing across the room, but gasped as she found him standing only a foot away. She gulped audibly and felt her heart rate quicken a few beats more per minute.  
  
Giving her a crooked smile, Jack tilted his head back and looked down at her along the bridge of his nice, "Aye, ye could say that, love. I have many a' collection of wanted posters all for me onsies. Seems I'm quite.desirable." He grinned widely as he watched her blink quickly and avert her eyes from his.  
  
"Um..well, yes I suppose..," Rhiannon suddenly felt very peculiar. //Why am I acting like such as twit? I shouldn't let him rattle me so//. She took a step back, uncomfortable with how close they had been standing and looked around for a means of escape. There, the door, it was only a few feet behind her. If she slowly made her way backwards maybe he wouldn't guess her intention and she would be able to flee.  
  
"What's got ye in such a flutter, love?" Asked Jack as he advanced on her while she retreated, not letting his eyes stray from her flushed face nor his grin to fade from his lips.  
  
"N-nothing, nothing at all. It's just a tad warm in here, is all," She fanned her self for effect and continued her way towards the door, clutching the rolled up poster a tad tighter in her hand. When she heard the parchment crinkle as it was squeezed she looked down at her hand in surprise. Rhiannon hadn't realized she was holding it so tightly.  
  
In her moment of distraction Jack made his move and pushed her back up against the door. She inhaled sharply and her eyes looked up into his face wildly. Jack caught her about her slender waist as she stumbled a bit after tripping on the hem of her dress in her nervous state. She shivered inwardly, but not from something cold, oh no, the spots where his hands made contact with her body felt as if they were on fire. Rhiannon was screaming to herself, inside of her head: What in bloody hells name!? I have to get out of here.now!  
  
Jack stepped even nearer, near enough for a few of his dreadlocks and various beaded and bedizened braids to sway across the neckline of her dress, tickling her and sending shivers coursing throughout her body. Rhiannon's mouth gaped like a fish out of water and small circles of color blossomed on the apples of her cheeks. Jack's shady face cracked into a golden-toothed grin and his hands trailed down her ribcage until they settled on her hips. Rhiannon gulped.  
  
"Erm..J-Jack, I mean Mr. Sparrow," she said his name very determinably, ".I-I think I could use a bit of fresh air," she turned slightly to her left so that she could grab the door knob but was pushed back against the door by Jack's hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Am I makin' ye nervous, love? Ye seem a lil' flustered," Jack Sparrows dark, mahogany eyes glinted as he looked deeply into Rhiannon's overly bright and shinning sapphire eyes.  
  
"Yes-I mean NO! It's just a little st-stuffy in here and I think I would just like to step outside for a moment. Tha-that's all.," Rhiannon smiled weakly, the corners of her mouth twitching-she needed to get out of there, away from his intoxicating presence.  
  
"Well, if that's all ye want, far be it fer me t' stop ye. Lemme help ye out the door-don' want yer shirts gettin' in the way." Jack took his hands away from her waist and stooped slightly to snatch two handfuls of scarlet silk and, all of the sudden, threw the heavy fabric up and over Rhiannon's head exposing her bloomers and trembling, ivory legs. To top it off, he spun her around, opened the door and pushed her over the threshold and out into the raucous pub. Rhiannon floundered her way out into the middle of the pub before falling flat on her stomach, her skirts still wrapped about her upper body.  
  
Rhiannon listened in agony as she failed about in her cocoon of silk and hair as the entire pub became aware of her current state of humiliation. The laughter was deafening and if her face had been free of the skirts, she was sure it would be just as crimson as the silk they were made of. She cringed as she heard whistles and cat-calls shouted about. The time it took her to untangle herself seemed to last for an eternity-- plus one--and she was actually contemplating just crawling in defeat under some table and letting them all carry on laughing, but then the prideful and noble side of her personality flared up and she tore the rest of the skirts away and took her time to smooth them out before getting to her feet (wobbling only slightly on her quaking limbs that felt entirely to spindly to her). She shook back the flaming mane of her hair before striding defiantly over towards the pirate captain who leaned lackadaisically against the door frame to the pirate parlor she had been so rudely thrust out of only minutes ago.  
  
Jack was the picture of indifference with only a touch of mild amusement. Inside however, hidden from all, he was laughing his arse off. He stood casually with one leg crossed over the other, his arms thrown across his chest and his hat tilted low over his eyes so that only a glimmer could be seen to tell that they were there. There was a crooked grin on his face and his eyes followed her as she approached him.  
  
"You, sir, are DESPICABLE! How DARE you!"  
  
"Oh ye don't really mean that now do ye?" Jack asked teasingly, tipping his hat up so that his eyes were revealed and presenting her with a look of hurt that was complete pretense.  
  
"Yes I do!" Rhiannon raised her hand to jab a finger into his chest and found that crumpled into the palm of her hand, was the almost completely forgotten wanted poster. She unfolded her hand and held up the crumpled parchment-ball as she gazed at it puzzlement, trying to remember why it was there.  
  
"Ah, what's this?" Jack snatched the paper ball off of her outstretched palm and pocketed it, "Why thank'ee, love. So kind of ye t' keep this safe fer me. Now why don' ye go play with some of those pub- goers over there. They look like they could use a bit of fun." He grinned like a chesire cat, grabbing her hand and spinning her in some crazy dance move-twirling her under his arm and releasing her (still spinning) so that she stumbled her way, quite ungracefully, across the room. Rhiannon shrieked shrilly as she collided backwards into someone and again as whoever it was she had bumped into pushed her towards someone else. She was passed around by various people as they all laughed wildly. Rhiannon felt like a human pin-ball as she was jerked around, pinched, and prodded. She even heard the unmistakable sound of tearing cloth and was quite positive it was some bit of her elegant dress being torn. Eventually, after being drenched in ale which thus caused her face to be licked from chin to temple, having her poor little feet stepped on so many times she was sure they had been reduced to a pulp, and acquiring so many new bumps and bruises she was sure she must be completely black and blue, Rhiannon found herself slammed up against the hardest body yet.  
  
Cowering under her feeble arms, Rhiannon looked up as if expecting a blow and found her eyes meeting with the hairiest, hungriest looking man she had yet seen in the entire pub. Not only was he like a giant grizzly bear in appearance, he was like a giant grizzly bear in stature as well, towering a good foot and a half over petite little Rhiannon. He had what looked to be a dark, dirty blonde-ish colored hair, but it was hard to tell if that was the real color or if it was just caked in so much filth. He had very wide, powerful shoulders and burly, muscled arms. His steely gray eyes shone like that of some predatory animal and grinned in a leering sneer in which one corner of his upper lips curled up exposing a yellowed canine.  
  
Rhiannon let a small squeak escape and made to dash away from him but was caught about the waist by a tree-trunk-like arm and was slung up over his shoulder.  
"Put me down! Help! Help!" she shrieked, screamed, clawed and kicked as he carried her nearer and nearer to the stairs. She knew she couldn't let him carry her upstairs to be trapped in some room with him and at his mercy. She did all that she could, all too soon, she found the first step below her and gulped.  
  
"Oy! Hold up thar, mate!" Rhiannon recognized that voice, it was Jack! Maybe he could save her. Rescue her from the frying pan, just so that she could jump into the fire.  
  
"Wha'd ye want? Who are ye?" asked the burly man, Rhiannon still slung up over his shoulder. He was looking down at the shorter Jack Sparrow edgily, impatient to be on his way with his wriggling burden up the stairs and into his chambers. His eyes narrowed as he studies Jack and then widened in recognition. "Cap'n Jack.Jack Sparrow?"  
"Aye, one an' the same," replied Jack, his dark eyes peering out from under the brim of his worn, leather hat. He nodded towards Rhiannon, "Where might ye be takin' that, mate?"  
  
"Oh, upstairs," simply stated the burly man, his eyes gleaming and sneering now so that both corners of his upper lipped curled back.  
  
Jack nodded, "Well, mate, I'm afraid ye can't be doin' that."  
  
The Neanderthal-like brow of the man knitted in confusion, "Why not?" Quick as lightning, Jack has his pistol out and cocked the hammer, aiming right between the burly man's eyes.  
  
"That's why not," Jack's eyes, as he looked down the barrel of the pistol and into the burly man's crossed-eyed orbs, held an expression that was difficult to distinguish whether it was amusement, aggression or a peculiar mixing of both.  
  
"Aye.right, right you are Cap'n," the burly man gently set Rhiannon down on her feet and backed away with his hands up, far away from the hilt of the cutlass at his waist nor the pistol tucked into his belt. He ducked his head in a clumsy sort of obeisance and then scuttled off back to the bar, retreating to the safety of ale. No one messed with Captain Jack Sparrow these days. Not after what he'd done a year before and regained command of the Black Pearl. He was not considered the most fearsome pirate in the Caribbean and none withstand him or the power of his crew and ship.  
  
Keeping his pistol out and ready, Jack motioned for Rhiannon to go before him back to the parlor, a guiding hand on the small of her back. He could feel her body quaking and smirked. That'll teach her, he thought to himself.  
  
Rhiannon walked as quickly as she could back towards the parlor, thinking only of the sanctuary it was compared to the rest of the pub and almost fell over the threshold. She heard Jack close the door behind them and turned, collapsing right into Jack's arms. She focused on catching her breath, letting her breathing slow back to a normal pace; she didn't even realize where she was. She could only feel how warm he was, how the collar of his coat was stiff with years of salt and sea spray, how he smelled of the sea and a curious spiciness, and how comfortable she was after being on edge for so long, after all that had transpired and changed her life in the last few days. She let her eyes close, realizing how tired and worn out she was. All too soon she heard, or more felt, his voice, deep and rough voice as it reverberated in his chest.  
  
"Told ye yew would warm up to me."  
  
Rhiannon's eyes flew open and she immediately torn herself from his embrace and fury clouded her eyes. Not as much fury at him (although she was quite furious with him for his little stunt out in the pub), but more so with herself, for letting herself be so easily tamed and off guard. How could she have let him hold her so, coddle her like a child after all that he had done to her? Her anger boiling over, she decided to take her frustration out on him and raiser her hand to slap him for all she was worth.  
  
Jack, for all his apparent drunkenness of habit, had the reflexes of a cat and intercepted her wrist and proceeded to intertwine his fingers with hers. Each stares into the other's eyes and then, out of nowhere, a rum bottle appears in Jack's other hand and he pushes the bottle again her chest. "Drink up, love. It'll calm yer nerves. And sit down, yer makin' me nervous."  
  
Pursed lipped, Rhiannon carries the bottle of rum over to the table and sets it down in front of her. Still standing, she contemplates the dark green bottle and, after shrugging her slender shoulders, pops out the cork and takes a mighty swig that fills her entire mouth. Her eyes watered as the liquid burned and she sloshed it around in her mouth before swallowing in one giant gulp. She swooned a bit, and placed her hand on the edge of the table to keep herself steady. Then she sat down and took another sip, but this time, no such a large and enthusiastic partake of the drink. Coughing a bit, she wiped the back of her small hand across her mouth and then looked up timidly in Jack's direction.  
  
Jack Sparrow sat and smiled at her over his own bottle (that was quite a bit larger), then set it down and fluttered his fingers before resting his head on his hands and watching her down the rim of his nose. He watched, waiting as her brow knit and she then cleared her throat.  
  
"So what was that wanted poster for, Jack?" her reedy voice all the huskier after the rum. Jack pursed his lips slightly and considered her small face, hectic roses blooming on her cheeks because of the drink.  
  
"Ye really want t' know?" Rhiannon nodded. "Well then, ye know that plunderin; and entire ship and killin' so many, includin' the Cap'n is not going to go unnoticed, eh? Especially when the Cap'n was such an influential person and certain passengers on the ship were of more interest to the Commodore Norrington than most others," Jack looked straight into Rhiannon's eyes after he said this.  
  
"H-how do you know that the Commodore was interested with anyone on my father's ship," she asked tentatively, not giving away any names in case he did, indeed, not know about her engagement to the Commodore.  
  
"I have me ways. I like t' keep tags on the Commodore," she still did not know if he knew about her being the Commodore's fiancée, and it was making her very nervous. Rhiannon took another hasty sip of rum, coughing again as it "went down the wrong pipe". Jack was laughing inside, of course he knew about her impending marriage with Commodore Norrington, he knew about most everything the Commodore was doing. What sort of pirate- king (as some were wont to call him) would he be if he didn't make sure he knew all that his enemies, or rather adversaries, were up to? He was enjoying his game, playing with her, trying to make her squirm.  
  
"Oh," she sad loudly, as if anxious about something and then grimaced at the sound of it and started again, more softly this time, "Oh, is that so?" She looked to the ceiling as if for help and squeezed a handful of skirt-fabric in her lap apprehensively.  
  
"Aye, I do," Jack watched with satisfaction as she took a few more sips of rum. He had also noticed with his quick insightfulness that, the more she drank, the more her accent began to change, ever so slightly. He couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and so asked her, "Tell me, Rhia- love, where are ye from?"  
  
Thinking this was a peculiar question, but detecting no reason why a true answer would hurt in any way replied, "My father is-was Welsh, my mum is British. I lived in Wales with my family at the estate that had been in my father's family for generations until I was five. Then we moved to London so that my father could further his merchant business."  
"Ah, that explains the accent then," Rhiannon looked up quickly, surprised, but couldn't think of anything to say. She thought that her old welsh accent had all but deserted her. "So," Jacks fingers made swirls in the bit of liquid on the table beside his long since forgotten plate of food, "Why was it ye were on yer father's merchant ship. Most people don't usually come all the way down here fer a vacation."  
  
Oh goodness, how was she going to get out of this one? She knew there was no way she was going to tell him she was on her father's ship on her way to her future husband, who from what it sounded like, wasn't the greatest of buddies with this pirate-captain. She didn't know what he would do when he found out, use her for ransom or some pawn in his pirate- plotting, but she didn't particularly want to find out. She did some quick thinking and thought she might be able to weasel her way out of this one, "Why should you get to ask all the questions Mr. Sparrow. I think it only fair that I get to ask you some questions as well." Jack's eyes narrowed but he waved her one with a fluttering hand before taking another swig of rum.  
  
"Why didn't you kill me like you did the rest of the crew and my father? What value have I to you?" Rhiannon was leaning over the table now, her hand squeezing the neck of her rum bottle.  
  
"Well, I thought t' would be quite obvious, love," here he looked her up and down and she squirmed in her chair, "Plus there was the little matter of you being..leverage."  
"Leverage?" Rhiannon was beginning to get worried and took some more sips of rum, noting dully that her bottle was starting to feel very light, "What do you mean, 'leverage'?"  
  
"Leverage in the sense that ye could be very useful t' me in the future, especially when dealing with the Commodore," he saw her jerk slightly in her chair.  
"And, why.why would I be useful," she asked the question more out of a way of keeping herself from doing anything irrational and waited for the answer that she already knew he would give her.  
  
"Why, because ye are his betroth'd, a'course. I'm absolutely positive the Commodore Norrington would never want anything to happen to 'is fiancé. He might do anything to get save ye from the evil, dastardly clutches of a villainous pirate such as m'self."  
  
"So you did know!? You knew all along and you didn't bother to tell me?!" Rhiannon was furious. She stood up quickly to make her way around the table to give him a 'piece of her mind' and found the room spinning. She must not have realized how much she had drank and was now feeling the consequences. Detachedly, she felt a hand slip around her waist and another around her thighs and was dimly aware of being lifted off the ground. All of the sudden, as soon as she had stood up, she felt like she were floating and she was *so* dizzy. She moaned as her head began to throb. Blast that rum, she thought to herself.  
  
Jack chuckled to himself as he left a silver coin on the table and walked out the parlor door, Rhiannon's small frame tucked neatly in his arms, her head buried in the crook of his neck as she moaned and whimpered over her pounding head. Maybe he had let her drink a tad to much, but he didn't think her tolerance would be so low, he must have drank three times as much as she had and he only felt a slight buzz. Oh well, she would be easier to handle this way, and with that thought he grinned mischievously and made his way across the still-crowded pub, weaving through tables and chairs and unconscious bodies strewn about the floor. He nodded toward the bar to the bartended and Jessim and then exited through the door out onto the stoop.  
  
....................................  
  
A/N: Well, I hope that was enjoyable. If so, you know what to do.just click on the review button and...Voila!  
  
Oil Pastel: meh.thought it would be true to Jack's buccaneer-nature. Oh.Rhiannon, its pronounced "rhee" as in 'tree' without the 't', then "ann" like the name Anne, and lastly "on" like "set it *on* the table." The last two syllables, "ann" and "on" run together though.and the emphasis is on the middle syllable. Hope that cleared things up, and ta for the review!  
  
ArenynCai: Ta for being my beta! You ARE my muse, Pooter-dear. 


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